


it’s nothing

by reidsanatomy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle is a good friend, Multi, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Ned is a good friend, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Tony Stark, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Underage Rape/Non-con, Worried Ned Leeds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15837027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidsanatomy/pseuds/reidsanatomy
Summary: Peter's always loved school. While his classmates complain about teachers or homework, Peter looks forward to school every morning.But now he’s closing himself off and hiding something from the people he loves. And he's not so sure he loves school anymore. Actually, he thinks he might hate it.But it’s nothing. He's just overreacting. He can handle it. And it's not like he can tell anyone. What would, May, or Ned, or MJ say? ...Worse, what would Mr. Stark say? Besides. It could be so much worse.It’s nothing.





	1. Chapter 1

School has always been a haven for Peter. Even with bullies like Flash, Peter has always loved school. His friends are there, and Peter has great friends. Ned, his best friend, and Michelle, although Peter isn’t sure she considers him a friend. And sometimes he can sneak in some work on his web fluid in chemistry, or spend the whole class discussing whatever new LEGO set Ned had bought that weekend. Most of all, Peter loves the anticipation of grabbing his bag, jumping over that fence behind the school and hoping nobody sees him, and changing into his suit. If there’s something he loves more than school, it’s being Spider-Man. And May of course. And probably Mr. Stark. He should probably include Happy in that too, although he’s not sure Happy shares the same sentiment. But unfortunately for now, Peter is stuck in his last period of the day, with still half an hour before class ends, before he can be Spider-Man. Peter’s eyelids are dangerously close to fluttering closed as his teacher drones on and on about some war in Europe. He’s staring at the board mindlessly when suddenly…

 

“Mr. Parker!”

 

Peter jolts up, sitting straight in his chair, face red. Ned gives him a look from across the room, and Peter frantically tries to spit out some form of an excuse.

 

“Sorry Mr. Emerson I- I didn’t mean to-”

 

“Enough. Please make sure to pay attention in my class, Mr. Parker, as there will be a test tomorrow.”

 

The whole class groans, and Peter sighs in relief as their attention quickly shifts to the upcoming test rather than him.

 

“Peter! Hey, Peter! If you fall asleep again in Emerson’s class, he’s gonna give you detention!” Ned half- whispers, half- screams to Peter.

 

“I know, I know!” Peter looks at Ned one more time before turning around to face Mr. Emerson, who is once again droning on and on in front of the whiteboard. Peter feels as though class will never end, so when the bell finally does ring, Peter is up and out of his seat in lightning speed, his bag already on his shoulder as kids begin to pack up and leave. Peter is almost to the door before a voice calls out his name.

 

“Mr. Parker! A word after class, please?”

 

Peter groans and his shoulders slump. This just means more time before he can go on patrol.

 

As the last of the kids trickle out of class, including Ned who gives him a look that says, “I told you so,” Peter begrudgingly makes his way over to Mr. Emerson’s desk.

 

He stands at his teacher’s desk as Mr. Emerson shifts through some papers and files on his desk, shifting onto one foot and then the other, impatiently. After a while, Peter gets tired of waiting for Mr. Emerson, who seemingly doesn’t notice he’s there. He contemplates just leaving and seeing if his teacher will notice, but then thinks better of it.

 

“Um, Mr. Emerson…? You wanted to talk to me?”

 

Mr. Emerson finally looks up and frowns at Peter.  
“Ah yes, Mr. Parker. It would seem as though your disruptive behavior in class has reached a limit. I can tolerate you constantly sleeping in class and your lack of interest no more, Peter. You distract the rest of the class when I have to interrupt my lesson to call you out. In the beginning of the year, you seemed like one of the rare students who is actually excited to learn, but now you've disappointed me. Your grades are dropping and it seems as though every day, you want nothing more than to leave this class. I’m close to failing you, Peter. You rarely turn in homework and you don’t pay enough attention to do well on tests.” He looks up at Peter expectantly, waiting for a response.

 

Peter, meanwhile, is practically panicking.

 

“Wait…what?! Failing?! I- I can’t fail Mr. Emerson, Aunt May would kill me! Please what can I do, is there some extra credit, can I make up some homework?”

 

“I’m afraid that won’t be an effective solution, Mr. Parker. You see, I’m not happy with your behavior in my class, and you doing some extra work to make up for all of that won’t make me happy. Do you want to make me happy, Peter?” He almost states, rather than asks, the question.

 

Peter hesitated slightly before speaking. “I- Yeah…I guess…but how? What do you want me to do?”

 

Mr. Emerson smiles at Peter, before standing up and moving across his desk to face him.

 

“Oh there are plenty of things I can think of Peter.” He places a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

 

Peter glances at the hand on his shoulder before looking back up to stare at his teacher, confused.

 

“I don’t understand…What do you want?”

 

Mr. Emerson takes another step closer to Peter,  
pressing him against the whiteboard.

 

“Oh I think you know, Peter.”

 

A wave of disgust rolls over Peter as he feels an obvious bulge pressing against his thigh. He squirms under the relentless pressure of his teacher, trapped between him and the wall.

 

“N-no I…I don’t want that, ju-just let me go and I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Oh I know you won’t tell anyone Peter. Think about it. Your junior year of high school is very important to colleges, Peter. How do you think a failing grade would look to all those exceptional colleges I’m sure a bright boy like you is hoping to get accepted into? And what would Aunt May think? She would surely be upset if you were to fail a class, and I can easily write her a letter detailing my concerns about your lack of interest in school.”

 

“N-no please…please don’t do that.” Peter is shaking now, scared of what May would think but equally scared of the position his teacher has over him. “Please,” He sobs out, “Please don’t tell Aunt May, please don’t fail me!”

 

“Oh Peter I won’t…of course I won’t…as long as you do what I say.”

 

Peter lets out another sob as his teacher's hand slides lower until it’s pulling at the hem of his shirt and sliding underneath, gliding over his stomach and chest with feather light touches. He steps back.

 

“Off,” He commands Peter, gesturing at his shirt. Peter’s hands shake as they pull his shirt up and over his head. He wraps his arms protectively around his body, purposely avoiding eye contact with his teacher.

 

Mr. Emerson steps forward and pushes Peter against the wall, harder this time, gripping Peter’s hips in a bruising hold. He moves his hands up and Peter whimpers as he plays with his nipples, watching them harden due to the exposure to air and added simulation.

 

Peter screws his eyes closed tight when Mr. Emerson finds his zipper and slowly begins to slide it down. He pops the button open and stops to look at Peter.

 

“Please…Stop…” Peter’s eyes are still closed and his head is jerked away, as far away as possible from his teacher.

 

Mr. Emerson sighs. He grabs Peter’s chin and forces his head to face him. “You don’t want me to stop Peter….do you?” Peter just shakes his head, refusing to answer. His teacher sighs again.

 

“Open your eyes, Peter.” He waits expectantly, yet Peter shakes his head again.

 

“That was not an option, Peter,” he says calmly, before violently shoving his hand into Peter’s boxers and grasping him tightly, nails digging into his skin.

 

Peter’s hands shoot up and his eyes snap open. He cries out as his hands claw desperately at the wall behind him, searching for an escape.

 

Mr. Emerson squeezes tighter before forcing Peter’s eyes to meet his.

 

“You do not say no to me Mr. Parker. You do what I say, without hesitation, or there will be consequences. You can scream and cry, but it will do you no good.” Without warning, he grabs Peter’s face and pulls him into a bruising kiss. Peter struggles and writhes under his teacher’s ministrations until Mr. Emerson pulls away, still gripping Peter’s face, leaving bruises behind. 

 

“Do you understand me, Peter?” He asks calmly, as Peter breathes heavily, struggling not to panic.

 

Peter nods frantically, not trusting himself to speak.

His teacher gives him a long look and then shoves him to the side. “Good. Now get out of my room.”

 

Peter can’t get out of there fast enough, buttoning up his jeans, throwing his shirt on and grabbing his bag off the floor. Just as his hand closes on the door nob, his teacher calls out.

 

“Oh, and Peter!” Peter turns around to face him. “7 AM tomorrow morning, before class. Don’t be late…and I don’t think I need to remind you, that this stays between us.” He smirks, making Peter shiver, before saying, “It’ll be our little secret.” He smiles wider and looks Peter dead in the eye, right before Peter shoved the door open and flees the room.

 

As he runs down the hallway, all thoughts of going on patrol have fled his mind. All he wants to do is go home, have a shower, and hug aun- Oh God. Aunt May. He can’t tell her, she’ll flip. And then Mr. Emerson will fail him, and-and…he doesn’t even want to know what Mr. Stark would think. If he finds out…Peter doesn’t want him to find out, doesn’t want anyone to find out…he’s afraid of what they’ll say, worse, what they’ll think. 

 

That he’s weak, that he let this happen, that he should fight him off, after all, he is Spider-Man…but then Mr. Emerson could find out. And that would be worse. Even worse than what just happened, even worse than this disgusting layer of dirt he feels on himself but cannot see, that seems as though it will never leave his body. That would be even worse than the shame and disgust he feels and…besides, he doesn’t really feel like being Spider-Man right now anyway.

 

So he heads back home, relieved to find that May isn’t home yet. He makes a beeline towards the shower, shrugging off his clothes, and stepping quickly into the shower without looking at himself. He turns the heat up, all the way up until there’s steam rising in the shower; until it’s scalding. He steps under the spray and finally looks down at his body, seeing the faint signs of light bruises on his hips from hands holding him against the wall, and the chest that his hands touched, and suddenly he is choking, kneeling down, and vomiting all over the shower floor. He slides down as he watches it swirl down the drain, and suddenly his body is overtaken by desperate sobs. He practically chokes as the tears stream steadily down his face, gasping for air, for relief. 

 

Yet he knows there is no relief, there will be more tomorrow, and after that, and he is genuinely scared because there is nothing he can do to stop it. He takes in deep breaths, now angry at himself, for being scared, for crying- he barely even touched him, it could’ve been much, much worse. 

 

He barely even did anything. He barely touched him. So why does he feel so disgusting?

 

Tomorrow will be worse. He has to go back tomorrow. For the first time, Peter doesn’t want to go to school. He could fake being sick, but surely Mr. Emerson would be mad. He would be furious, angry with Peter. He would know he faked being sick. And eventually, he would have to go back.

 

And he hates him for that. Hates him for that more than anything else. Because he loves school. He loved school. But now he hates Mr. Emerson and he hates school and he doesn’t ever want to go back, but more than anything else, he hates himself.


	2. it gets worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only the start of a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok wow, I suck. So school kinda just came at me real fast and this story was pushed wayyyy back in my mind. I recently looked at this story and then realized how long it's been since I updated and then forced myself to start writing.  
> Soooo sorry for the incredibly long wait - hopefully this makes up for it.  
> And please, let me know what you think. I love reading your comments!!

7 AM. Tomorrow morning. Well...wait. Peter glances over at the clock on his nightstand. The red blaring figures read, "1:32 AM." So not tomorrow. Today. Peter squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his body, his mind to surrender to sleep. Yet sleep evades him. How is he supposed to get up, eat breakfast, get on the bus, and go to school, knowing what's there waiting for him? He's never dreaded anything more in his life...but what Mr. Em - he - said stuck with him. He's a junior. This is his most important year for colleges. His grades, his attendance, everything needs to be perfect. He can't afford to skip school more than he can afford a failing class.

He has to suck it up. People go through way worse things every day. He can deal with this one thing.

 

Peter doesn't sleep for one second that night.

 

In the morning, he is practically shaking. His hand trembles as he forces himself to eat spoonful after spoonful of cereal, as to not alert May to there being anything wrong.

She does anyway.

She leans across the table and places her hand over his shaking one. "Peter? What's wrong, why are you shaking?"

"Oh it's nothing Aunt May, I'm just tired." Peter quickly gets out of his seat, puts his bowl in the dishwasher, and grabs his book bag sitting by the door. "I gotta go Aunt May, don't wanna be late!"

"Wait Peter it's only 6:30 d-" "Yeah Ned's gonna tell me about his new Lego set! Bye May!" Peter shouts back on his way out the door.

"But wha-" but Peter is already gone and the door is shut, leaving May to shrug her shoulders and continue eating breakfast.

 

Peter feels bad for lying to her, he really does, but he doesn't want her to know. She can't know; and he definitely can't tell her.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When he arrives at school, he feels sick. He wants nothing more than to go to the bathroom and empty his stomach of the measly breakfast he barely ate this morning, but he can't. He finds his feet carrying him to _his_ class of their own accord. Peter pauses before the doorway, the door shut, waiting to be opened. His fear is palpable, its coming off of him in the sweat that drips down his neck. He closes his eyes, willing for the strength to just go in, to just get it over with.

He's never felt more weak and less like Spider-Man in his life.

He berates himself. Open the door, Peter. Open it, it's just a stupid door. He checks his watch. 6:58. Mr. Emerson would surely not be happy if he came in late. He swallows, hard. His hand closes over the knob, and before he knows it, he's inside the room, the door swinging shut with a soft _click_ behind him. His senses are heightened; he can hear his quick, ragged breaths, his heart pumping loudly, the soft click of the keyboard as Mr. Emerson works quietly behind his desk.

"Ah, Peter. I'm so glad you could make it. Right on time. Believe me, for a second there, I thought you weren't going to show." He's still at his desk, tapping away on his computer.

Peter says nothing.

"Well don't just stand there, Peter. Aren't you going to say hello?"

Peter shifts awkwardly. If it was up to him, he would say absolutely nothing. He doesn't want to say anything to him. But it's not up to him.

"Hello, Mr. Emerson," he says, his voice monotone, devoid of any inflection.

"Well that was terribly boring. No worries, eventually you'll be calling me something else, but for now, you'll get away with that. Now lock the door and come here." His head still hasn't gone up, he still hasn't even _looked_  at Peter.

He can't move. His feet are frozen to the spot, he  _can't move._ He stands there, waiting. Minutes pass by, before Mr. Emerson finally lifts his head to stare at Peter.

He tsks, shaking his head. "Peter, my boy. That was not a question. That was an order. And I will not repeat myself, ever. You do what I tell you to do, or things will be so much worse, Peter."

Peter sucks in a breath and locks the door before slowly walking over to him. Each step, his legs feel heavier and heavier, like they're filling up with lead, trying to force him to stop, screaming at him to get away, to turn around and run. But he continues to move forward until he's right next to his desk.

Mr. Emerson spins around in his chair, turning to face Peter. He smiles. 

"Now, Peter. I'm sure you remember you got off fairly easy last time. I'm going to inform you that from now on, it won't be that easy. If you want me to bring up your grade, I have to be pleased. And I don't recall any pleasing from you yesterday. Am I correct in that assessment, Peter?"

Peter's shaking so much he doesn't even realize he's been asked a question. When he doesn't answer, Mr. Emerson shakes his head and sighs.

He stands up abruptly and roughly grabs Peter's chin. Peter gasps, squirming to get out of the rough grip. Mr. Emerson holds a finger right up to Peter's face.

"Ah ah ah. Stop. Squirming. Peter you're only making things worse for yourself. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

Peter quickly shakes his head, to scared to open his mouth.

"Good boy. Now I know you're still not used to this, Peter, but when I ask you a question, I expect a response. I won't tolerate disobedience. Now," he let's go of Peter's chin, "Am I correct in saying that I received no pleasure from you yesterday, Peter?"

Peter nods quickly.

"Peter. Use your words."

"Yes. Yes, you're right, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Peter's hands are gripped tight, balled into fists at his side.

"Good. On your knees then."

Peter's eyes widen, his mouth opening, before he's interrupted. "Peter, remember what we talked about now."

Peter quickly falls to his knees, even though he'd rather do anything but.

Mr. Emerson groans at the submission. He runs a hand through Peter's hands, who flinches slightly, before gripping it tightly. "Oh, Peter. You don't know what you do to me. Soon, you'll be on your knees for me before I even ask."

Peter closes his eyes tight at that statement, forcing himself not to answer, tears starting to form from the painful grip in his hair. 

The hand in his hair pushes him forward. "Take it out, Peter."

"T-take what out Mr-"

"Don't play dumb Peter. It doesn't suit you. Now take it out."

Peter lifts up a shaking hand, fumbling with the zipper before pulling it down. Mr. Emerson appears to become impatient sliding his pants along with his boxers down to the floor. Peter keeps his head down, not wanting to look at _it._

"You can't suck my cock with your head down, Peter."

Peter lets out a small sob before lifting his head and staring. He makes no move to go forward. Mr. Emerson sighs loudly before roughly pressing Peter's face against his cock. Peter lets out a muffled whimper.

Mr. Emerson grips his hair again, even tighter this time. "Peter, you do not want to make me mad right now. Open your fucking mouth."

Peter sobs again, finally opening his mouth, and his teacher's thick cock is almost immediately shoved into his mouth. He chokes at the intrusion, tears immediately building up in his eyes.

"Now. I was going. To take it easy. On you. Given that it's your. First time. At least. I assume." He times his words with his rough thrusts. "But, given your insolence. I think you and I. Both know. You deserve this."

He thrusts further into Peter's mouth, his cock going down Peter's throat, causing him to choke. His face is red and puffy, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh Peter. You have no idea how beautiful you look right now." He thrusts deeper, his length going all the way done, Peter's nose pressed into his pubic hair.

"Fuck. You're such a slut Peter. I can't wait to come down your throat. I want to come all over that pretty little face." He thrusts harder, until his come is spilling down Peter's throat, pulling out before he's done to come on Peter's face. He watches it drip down Peter's eyes, nose and mouth. That, and his red face covered in tears is almost enough to get him hard again. Almost.

Peter is crying hard now, gasping for breath, practically choking on air. He rolls his eyes before tossing a small towel at the whimpering boy at his feet. "Clean yourself up, slut."

Peter immediately grabs the towel, wiping desperately at his face while his teacher casually zippers his pants up. He looks down in disgust. "Now get out of my classroom."

Peter darts up and rushes out, heading straight for the bathroom where he retches in the stall for the better part of half an hour, leaning over the toilet bowl in misery.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later, he meets up with Ned and Michelle for lunch, the former immediately launching into a discussion about the new Lego Star Wars set his Mom bought him. 

"Peter, you should come over after school and help me build it!"

"Uh...no thanks Ned, I..." He struggles to come up with some sort of excuse. "I promised May I would have dinner with her tonight."

"Oh that's totally cool, bro. Tell Aunt May I said hi!"

"Yeah...sure thing, Ned." Peter picks at his food with little interest. "Hey, Ned, do you want this?" he says, holding out his sandwich.

"Are you serious? Thanks, Peter! May always makes the best lunches, I swear."

Peter just smiles and nods shakily.

Michelle frowns. "Peter, are you good?"

"W-what do you mean? Why...Why wouldn't I be uh good?

"I don't know dude, you're acting weird."

Peter lets out a shaky laugh. "Oh yeah, haha, I'm just tired. I couldn't sleep last night, was worrying about that Spanish quiz we had today."

Michelle just gives him a questioning look, before shrugging her shoulders. "Ok loser. Whatever you say."

Ned looks between Peter and Michelle, as if he doesn't know what to say, before instead deciding to just take a huge bite out of Peter's sandwich. "Ohh man, Peter this is so good!"

Michelle rolls her eyes and Peter laughs.

Yeah. He can't tell them either. If something in his life is gonna remain good, untainted, it has to be them.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later, when he's at home, after no less than 5 showers, he sits on his bed and cries.

He knows May will be home soon, but he doesn't care.

Today was so much worse than yesterday. He thought he could handle it, but he has never felt weaker. He's not sure if he's strong enough to handle this, if he's honest with himself.

He jumps at the sound of a ping on his phone. He claws behind him, reaching for his phone, before reading the alert.

"STUDENT PORTAL: PETER B. PARKER HAS AN UPDATED GRADE OF 67 IN EUROPEAN HISTORY"

Peter groaned, turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into his pillow. He grabs his phone and stares at it, like if he stares at it harder the number will somehow magically change.

He cries harder knowing it won't.

All that. That entire, horrible, awful, _dirty_ , experience, all that was for a measly 3 percentage points. He's not failing, but he's still at a D. What will he have to do to get an A, or even a B or a C?

He shudders. He doesn't even want to _think_ about what else he'll have to do. What he just did today...that was only the tip of the iceberg. In the back of his mind he knows what's probably coming, but that's where that thought will stay - pushed to the back of his mind, away from where he can think about it, or worse, imagine it.

 

"Peter! Honey, are you home? How was school?"

Before he can wipe away his tears or even think about making himself look presentable, the door to his room is opening and May is now stopped in her tracks staring at him, her face kind of screwed up like she's in pain or something.

"Oh baby. Peter, what happened? What's wrong?"

For a few seconds, Peter truly thinks about telling her. She would hug him, and comfort him, and he would never have to see Mr. Emerson again.

But he _can't_. He wants to _so_ bad, but he can't put May through that. With all that she does for him, taking extra shifts at the hospital, working late all the time - how is burdening her with that information any way of repaying her?

He looks up at her, and she walks over to him, sits down on the bed, and lets him cry on her shoulder.

"I have a 67 in Euro," he mumbles out between sniffles, "And I need to get my grade up because this year is really important for college and I can't afford that low of a grade, May." He can't stop the tears now, they are streaming steadily down his face and creating a wet patch on May's shirt.

"Oh Peter, honey, it's ok. You work so hard, you'll get your grade up, I know you will. You're too hard on yourself baby, you're too stressed."

Peter just sniffles, and she pulls him closer, hugging him tighter. "What do you say we go out to eat tonight honey? We can get Thai, at that place you really like?"

And now he's costing her more money too. He feels so ungrateful, like all he does is take from her and cause her problems while never giving anything back to her.

"N-No thanks, May, can we just, stay in and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure, baby, whatever you want. It'll be ok Peter, I promise."

She places her hand on his cheek, and places a light kiss on his forehead and Peter thinks, 'I don't deserve you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will do my best not to wait two decades before updating again.
> 
> Also, debating on whether or not to bring Tony into the next chapter...what do you guys think...do you want him in the next chapter or not yet?

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Peter...it’s only going to get so much worse.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


End file.
